Mortals & Deities (13 page)

When the knock came, Sarshia’Mion Mocley steeled herself for the conversation ahead. Once the Mu’shadar princess had left her apartments, Sarshia found she could not shake the bad feelings from the girl’s accusations.

Could my little brother be the catalyst for something so horrifying?

She had started investigating—or more appropriately, had sent Theriana to ask some questions to the people working in and around the Chandril’elian. The answers her handmaiden had returned with were not promising. The fact that three Human Initiates had either been sent home or expired from training in just over a turn of the seasons was more than suspicious. Two Initiates were sent home after being broken by the training. The third disturbed her more than she wished to admit. Still, that was all she had learned.

And there was the incident before I left, when that Human Initiate had attacked Aritian.

She shuddered at the thought of violence within the walls of the White City. She had no proof that the incident was connected. Still, added with the others…

Several conflicting answers surrounded the Initiate, Alant Cor. One Gray said he had expired—passed into the Aftermore as the primitive Human religion believed. One, that he had been sent home. Another said he ran away and was thought to have stowed away on a ship that took him back to Ro’Arith. Still another said he had vanished into thin air.

Preposterous! How could someone—a Human no less!—become lost in the most secure city on all of Talic’Nauth? A city that barred most Humans from even entering!

Still, I shall have my answers now.

She turned and looked at the door.
“Come.”

The door opened and the diminutive Gray, Delmith Bathooll, entered her sitting room. He wore a pale blue serota that almost all her people wore. It came down to just above his knees—a bit short for his stature. She had known him since they were younglings, having attended the Chandril’elian together near two hundred winters gone. Delmith had followed her and her twin all the time. He idolized Aritian, and though it was most improper, she knew he had wished for more than friendship between him and herself.

As if a Blue would ever mate with a Gray!

Standing, she held out a hand for him.
“Delmith, thank you for coming.”

Crossing the marble floor, he took her hand and bowed his head.
“How could I not respond to the summons of my Princess?”

Guiding him to a chair, she waited for him to sit before she took a seat on the couch opposite him. As she settled into the cushions, Theriana entered carrying a tray with two tiny cups and a cold pitcher of raz. Sarshia busied herself with studying her guest while waiting for her handmaiden to pour them both a cup and withdraw from the room.

Though he seemed well composed, and it had been some time since they had been together, he fidgeted more than she remembered. His smile appeared forced, and he held a haunted look in his eyes. She longed to perform a Chi’tar upon him, though she would never be that rude. Even if she suspected he was involved in something with her brother that she would not approve of.
“How is your mate?”

“Melisian is well. Thank you for asking. She has been busy with her research.”

Not wanting to be drawn into a lengthy discussion about the wondrous properties of Ratave, she forged ahead, catching him off guard.
“And how is your research for Aritian going?”

The shocked look that encompassed the Gray’s face gave her all the confirmation she needed.
“I—How did you know…”

Smiling, she took a sip of her raz. Its bitter coldness engulfed her tongue with just the perfect amount of spice. So wonderful.
“I did not. However, those questioned were forthcoming with information that my brother has spent quite a bit of time with you at the Chandril’elian.”

Frowning into his own cup, Delmith let out a long breath.
“Yes. He has me…I am looking into—”

She did not let him finish.
“Do not lie to me, Delmith. You were never good at it.”
Finishing off her raz, she leaned forward. She did not know the extent of what went on within the walls of the school. Still, she knew something was not right.
“I want to know what Aritian is doing, Delmith. I know that several Human Initiates have been sent home without explanation and that one is nowhere to be found. I know that Aritian has taken an interest in the Chandril’elian that is most unlike him. I also know that you are in no position to deny me these answers. Or, would you prefer to answer these questions in a more public location, say like my father’s audience chamber?”

Delmith paled and busied himself with smoothing out the front of his serota.
“No, my Princess. Please, you do not understand. I—”

“You are correct! I do not understand. That is why you are here, Delmith. To enlighten me.”
She held him in her gaze while setting her empty cup on the table between them.
“No more stalling for time. Tell me what my brother is up to, and more importantly, what happened to the Initiate Alant Cor?”

Wide eyed, Delmith drained his cup of raz before he looked back at her.
“Your brother found a Chi’utlan below the Chandril’elian, and he hopes to use it when it is ready. He wants to be the first Elmorr’Antien Mah’Sukai.”

Had he confirmed that her brother had in fact been a part of abusing the Human Initiates, causing them grief she could not begin to understand the reasons to—that news would have been less shocking. Even if he had said her brother had murdered the Humans out of spite or some perverse pleasure, she would have been less revolted.

Yet, this…

“No. No, you must…You must be mistaken.”
Saying the words made her realize that
she
was the one mistaken. Delmith would not create such a ludicrous tale. Aritian had always wanted more than his station could give him. He was always the odd one out. As heir, their older brother, Varishma, held all the duties of the Crown Prince. He had been schooled and groomed his entire life for nothing except becoming King once their father expired. She, as Crown Princess, had her own duties as was custom, and performed them with pride and diligence. Yet, Aritian had nothing in the way of responsibilities to their people. He was free to pursue any venture he saw fit.

The last second son of House Mocley had been Artimus Mocley. This happened more than three thousand winters gone. Most believed Artimus insane because of his appetite for adventure and exploring—so very unlike a proper Elmorr’Antien, especially a Blue. He had been instrumental, however, in taming the wild lands of Ro’Arith during this cycle, as well as founding the Human city that held her house’s name.

Could Aritian’s desire to do more be so great? In cycles past, when the Mah’Sukai came into power, her people had retreated to their island home—letting the War of Power that ensued consume the other races. Her people would stay clear of it. The Elmorr’Antiens were a long lived people. No more than three or four generations would pass before the Essence would fall into its slumber once more. Retreat to wherever it came from. Allow the Plane of Talic’Nauth to have peace. At least for a time. If her brother had found a Chi’utlan—an Essence Node, the place where the Essence physically touched this Plane—why would he wish to taint himself with it.

“How could he even think to do such a terrible thing? The Chi’utlans are the catalysts for the endless Wars of Power that ravage the Plane each cycle. Why would my brother wish to involve our people in that? I am appalled!”

“It is not like that, my Princess.”
In her turmoil, Sarshia had forgotten Delmith was even in the room until he spoke.
“The Chi’utlan is such a wondrous thing. I think I have discovered during my time in the Chamber that it is actually a portal to another Plane of existence! Can you imagine? The Plane that the Essence comes from! What wonders must exist there?”

Listening to the Gray and remembering something that Shaith had said, she started to see the depths of what her brother intended.
“Tell me you are not a part of this, Delmith. Tell me you have not helped my brother to—”
She had to take a breath to even ask the question that lay on her tongue.
“Has my brother been testing this Chi’utlan on the Humans?”

The Gray’s face went ashen and his guilt shown as plain as if he had acknowledged its truth.

I cannot believe that Shaith was correct.

She covered her mouth with a hand.
“This is murder. You have taken younglings—children of the Humans—who came here to better themselves. To learn from the best race on this Plane…”
Her anger gripped her full force and she stood.
“…and you have used them. You have destroyed their minds!”
She pointed down at Delmith and he cowered in his chair.
“Worse! You have tried to create a Mah’Sukai! The very thing that will force our people to pull back from the rest of the races! To hide, hoping that in their insanity they will overlook our little island. Leave us be until the Essence burns them out!”
Forcing herself to breath, she relaxed. Anger would not solve this dilemma.

While she remained silent, Delmith regained some of his composure as well.
“Yet, the insanity does not grip the Humans until many generations have passed. We know this from our records. The power of the Essence is too weak for hundreds of winters, even after the first of the Mah’Sukais are created.”

She sneered.
“Do not sit there and lecture me about things we learned as younglings, Delmith!”

Waving a hand, he implored her to sit. She ignored it and remained standing.
“No, my Princess, you miss my point. I am simply stating that it will be near a thousand winters before the power of the Essence is too strong for the Human Mah’Sukai to handle, and this Cycle’s War of Power begins.

“Think of what could be done if it was our race who led the way this Cycle.”
A look of excitement mixed with joy spread over his features.
“No longer would we have to retreat from the other races. We have more control over the Essence than any other race. It is in our blood. Mayhaps the madness would not affect us.”
He looked up at her with pleading eyes.
“And your brother hopes to use this power to find all of the Chi’utlans. Ensure that only our people have the ability to use them. He wants to protect his people! Where is the harm in that?”

She did see the harm. Or, more precisely, the madness.
“And this justifies experimenting on Humans? Humans who have come here with trust in their hearts?”

“I regret that part of the process. Still, would you have your brother step into the Chi’utlan before it was time? Would you rather it was he who expired, or worse, had his mind destroyed?”

Irritation built in her again as the Gray spoke.

How dare he attempt to interpret what is best for a Blue! How best we should rule our people!

“Would I rather my brother put his own life in jeopardy as opposed to murdering innocent younglings? Is that what you are asking me, Delmith?”
She shook her head.
“I would rather he had buried the Chi’utlan when he found it. If we could find them all, I agree that mayhaps we could stop the other races from using them. Wipe them all from this Plane and allow peace to reign.”
This made her realize something.
“How is it that a Chi’utlan was buried under the Chandril’elian in the first place? This city is tens of thousands of winters old. How has it gone so long without discovery?”

“It was never lost, my Princess. The royal family—your family—has known about it all along.”

Letting out a snort, she shook her head.
“Impossible! I knew nothing of it.”

Delmith bowed his head in shame.
“I am sorry to offend, my Princess. It is my understanding that even most Blues do not know of its existence. However, it was your father, our King, who told your brother of it. I understand that even the Crown Prince does not know it exists.”

“My father?”
Stunned, Sarshia sank back onto the couch.
“Why would he tell Aritian? He knows my brother is always trying to prove himself.”

“I think that is the reason he gave the information to him.”
The Gray wrung his hands. Obviously, he would rather not discuss this topic with her. She understood—to a point. A Gray even thinking about the affairs of the Blue could warrant a visit by the Gralet’nars.
“I have long suspected that our King gave your brother this information in the hopes that he would take it as a challenge to keep it hidden. Give him a purpose—a duty—in the hopes that he would ensure it was never used. As it has been kept for longer than our people have records.”
Again, he became excited.
“The runes that line the hall leading to the Chamber are so ancient that even I have been unable to—”